Fallen Warrior (Fallen Trilogy book 3)

by Williams, Tess

  "Tell me why you have that!" I said to Tox.

  Tarful pressed his hands forward first. "All right. All right, princess. Kurma," he said, addressing the man. He shook his head—to which the man sighed exasperatedly, and then he shrugged, falling back into his chair. I narrowed, even glancing to the door, towards Cole, willing him to come and protect me as he'd promised; maybe I really was in danger.

  But Tarful, taking a great breath, looked nothing more than the kindly man whose elbow I'd clung to in the halls. The room went about with sighs, and arms being crossed, and waving hands, and so on, then as Tarful put his hand out, looking as if he were about to speak, Tox caught his wrist. They shared a dark look, then Tarful tipped his head, then shook it shortly; gently, but in that authority of a commander, that made it seem as if Tox were a long-standing underling of his, though I knew that was impossible. Still, Tox relented, then Tarful spoke, to my now wide, confused, eyes.

  "Princess, I must regret to tell you that you have been led upon a rouse."

  These words were simple, spoken plain.

  I blinked, having no attention for the others round about the table, but Tarful, as I looked from Tox's figurine to him.

  "What could you mean?" I asked.

  Tarful sighed long. "I mean that my countrymen are quite mad."

  "Now, Rackham," Kurma objected.

  Tarful shook his head. "No, no, she's gone on long enough, and you'll allow me to explain." Tarful turned his attention quickly to me, his palms put out strict to the table. "When you first arrived in Genbu, before you even entered to the top of the mountain, as soon even, I daresay, your fellow Cirali Warrior delivered us your letter of intention, we Genbuans have been set to agree to help you strike against Akadia."

  "Oh old man Tarful, you ruin all the fun telling her this way," a young ruler huffed.

  "It was the Black Tortoises," Tarful went on, uniformly. "They knew of your behest even before your fellow came. You'll have to ask one of the Vishnuites, but it seems there's a connection between them and the Vermillion Birds, so, they'd already decided upon going to Akadia."

  "What?" I interrupted. "The Echrians didn't know anything of this."

  "Neither did we," Kurma commented, "Until the Tortoises deemed to tell us."

  "But you," I pointed, aiming at Kurma, interrupting just before Tarful was meaning to go on. "You said that they couldn't speak with you."

  Kurma put his hands up, palms up, on either side of him, then shrugged. "They can't technically speak.... We were honor-bound to our ancient ways."

  "You what?" I asked. "From the way I see it, most of you don't even know your ancient ways."

  "Oh, that was all part of the display," young Mali dismissed. "Of course we know our own ways, but it would've been obvious then, that we meant to help you."

  I was narrowing, with a dreadfully low brow, while Tarful was shaking his head, as if in embarrassment. I glanced at Tox, who'd begun this whole thing with the figurine. It was put away, I noticed, and he leaned back, completely in his chair, looking round to the door, as if he meant to leave through it any second.

  "Wait, what does this have to do with what I asked before?" I said. "I mean, about the... about Tox? And I still don't understand. Why would you do all of this? If you meant to help me, why would you hide it?"

  Kurma was the one to draw attention, rolling his lips. "Why, we couldn't just agree to it, could we? What sort of respectable nation would do such a thing?"

  Tarful was still shaking his head, but he held his hands up to silence the others. "Genbuan ways, might not be something that you will grasp, dear princess, and something I have thankfully forgotten, but in simple explanation, we've always meant to agree to your request to fight against Akadia, and so we will. Your lack of admission into the mountain your first day here, the same as this meeting, have been part in our strange ways, testing your perseverance."

  "And so well you did," Sheeta added, "Keeping your patience. I would have tired so far earlier on. I would have snapped all our noses off."

  "You've the true perseverance of a Tortoise," another added. "Do you know they live, hundreds of years?"

  I blinked—as I had, sort of none-stop, since Tarful had begun explaining things to me. I did, in great part, want to be irritated with this behavior, maybe I was, or maybe I found it humorous, or maybe I thought I should have guessed it, knowing Carceron and Leddy—who I now thought were rather sane. But mostly I was too relieved to feel anything of irritation. They would help, it seemed, the Black Tortoises would help. That meant, the Echrians would. That meant all of them there.

  "Truly?" I said to them. "Truly, do you mean all of this?" I looked about. "You really will help?"

  They all wore happy smiles (exempting Tarful, Portos, and Tox), but Kurma was the one to lean forward excitedly. "To tell it honest, princess, we've already prepared all of our weapons of warfare. It was true what we told you about the objects of siege, and it has been generations since we partook in a large war, but..." He grinned. "The Tortoises are prepared. We will gladly go on to wherever you tell us. We will fight among the great chimera."

  "The Tortoises are pleased to help. We can leave whenever it's needed. We do not need to wait until the winter breaks, since we have tunnels below the mountain, which lead outward towards the south," another added.

  "This bit is all true, princess," Tarful confirmed genuinely. "We've discussed it over many times. Even since I came here, my countrymen have been open to hearing of Akadia's recompense."

  I started to shake my head. "Oh, it's not until the spring we mean to attack, but... if you can really be ready sooner, than we could use you now. You could head there now, to Karatel."

  Tox tipped his head up. The whole table was noisy and lively with movement, if not interrupting voices, but this nod of Tox's was so single, and deliberate, that it drew my attention easily. "How many do you have?" he asked. Then he nodded around. "Besides these ones?"

  I watched him, then I started to narrow. It deepened as I glanced back towards his hand, where there was no longer a figurine. I looked to Tarful. "The first question I asked," I said, "About Tox's figurine. Wasn't that why you told me all of this? What's it to do with everything else?"

  The surrounding Genbuans, were less silent, but still watchful now, at this topic—maybe even so far as entertained. While Tarful looked more grim, as he had at first. And Tox looked once again frustrated, while Portos looked as if he were trying to be as frustrated as Tox, measuring him routinely.

  "What the rest of those here, know about these men, which are here, Tox and Portos, is that they are not called Tox and Portos at all. Neither is their homeland something which might be considered reassuring. They are Akadians, the both of them," Tarful explained simply, "In fact, they're men from my own battalion. I've known them long. Princess, I can assure you that they are trustworthy. They care nothing for what Akadia has become."

  I frowned, paying not so much attention to his careful entreating, as Tox's expression. Tox, or whoever he was. He looked uncomfortable, like he wished none of this was being said; like he wished he wasn't even present.

  "How long have they been here?" I asked—of Tarful, though I stayed looking at Tox, and he looked back at me as well.

  Portos was the one to answer. "Months now. Before the summer. Before the wars." His tone was pitiable. While Tox raised a slow brow, then glanced back at him; a little ruefully, perhaps humored, so that I thought for a moment, that Tox wasn't so bothered by life as he seemed. Maybe he only didn't like to be here, in this room. And I thought, imagining what it would be like for Akadians, to be here in Genbu for the greater part of a year. Exempting even the snow and blizzards, where there once was fierce heat and warmth. Clouds where there was once only the sun always. Or the cramped in, bowlish mountains, versus the wide desert. The towering chambers, against the mosaic tiled, and luxurious carpeting, open spaces, balconies, and streets of Akadia. Exempting all of this, I thought only of the disposition of t
he Genbuans, and an Akadians potential tolerance for them. Oh, I thought of Cyric. Oh, how I thought of him. Not that he would have minded Tongon or the Vishnuites terribly; I didn't think he would have. But I imagined, if he'd been here with me in this room, after hearing about such a rouse, after enduring debating for hours that had been merely pretend—well, he would have looked something like Tox at the least. And if he'd been trapped here for months? He would have hated the cold, and he would have wanted the open desert to race across.

  This was the first time I thought of Cyric being like an Akadian in any sort of positive light, I realized. But almost instantly, almost just the same time as I'd thought it, I felt a hope for Akadia. Maybe even more than that, a love? Or was it a yearning, that it was or could be, in some way, something beautiful. That it wasn't all evil, the way its torches shimmered, its many pavilions, and golden balconies. Even its desert. It was more like Tobias had spoken, that I remembered. Would you understand if I said that I used to care for Akadia that way? he'd said to me.

  Cyric; I wouldn't ever forget the way Nain had told me he'd called himself a Shaundakulian. And yet, I could see how the sun, and gold, and praise for skill of Akadia fit his person. I could remember the way he'd looked upon his bed, in his red and tiled room. I could remember as he'd stood beside his bath, dipping a hand in, then teasing me that he would still use it whenever he liked, and not care if I was there. I could remember the way he'd looked, standing across the barracks hall, holding his drink, laughing at his soldiers, then only glancing at me if I wouldn't stop staring. Then I remembered, sitting beside him, beside his soldiers, besides a fire outside of the city—where he'd reassured them over wyverns. His Akadian soldiers, who laughed, and feared, and admired ones such as him, just the same as everyone else.

  "I'm glad you've offered your help," I said. "I don't have anything against your city in itself," I said to Tox, even glancing at Tarful, then Portos, "but I think it's good you yourselves, got free of it. For now... perhaps there's a way it could be what it once was. After all of this."

  Everyone at the table was paying the attention that they always did, but Tox's, and Portos's, and Tarful's—their focus was almost dense, between us. I wasn't really sure why I'd said those things; maybe since it seemed they looked so homesick, the two of them, even Tarful. Besides I was happy for their help. No, but it was also thoughts of Cyric. He did make me stronger; it was true what I'd thought, and still held onto. Only now I was really grasping, meeting Akadians, and being comforted by them. That wouldn't last long, even if there was a chance they'd... well, I hadn't thought of that.

  "Say, you were there in the summer," I said, not knowing now whether Tarful meant to go on explaining anything, because he'd gone silent watching me, but now I had my own line of questioning to administer, "Does that mean you could have met any of the Shaundakulian recruits? Do you know of Lieutenant Dracla?" I asked, rather carried away by now. I frowned. "He might have been, only a regular soldier by then. But his first name was Cyric, and I think he rather stood out. Didn't he Tarful? Even before then? Have you asked if they knew him?"

  I was pleased, thinking again of Tarful being a one which Cyric had saved. It felt so precarious, speaking like this. In this room, where this feeling seemed it would disappear, but I'd so longed for it, that I couldn't seem to stop.

  Tarful opened his mouth. While Tox narrowed low, and uncertain—strained even. And Portos, his eyes were wide.

  Everyone else was just staring on, seeming as if they were watching an intriguing performance, though I was only half aware of it.

  Tox was the one to respond first, lifting his hand up, then showing that the figurine was still there, buried inside his palm. He pointed to it, wordlessly, causing me to narrow in confusion. It was strange, but I'd forgotten about the figurine at all as soon as Tarful had mentioned Akadia.

  Now Tarful spoke next, sounding old and kind again, "Princess, perhaps I should tell you now that these two men are not mere soldiers, by old Lieutenants of mine."

  My brow flicked even lower, watching him. Akadian Lieutenants? My thoughts repeated. And still I was looking at Tox's hand, and the figurine inside, as if I were sure it meant something that I already knew, though I couldn't tell at it. My mind, also repeated my own words. Not just anyone would be able to get that. It's from our war-rooms. Then Tox's words. I got it from a man.... He saved my life. And the life of my family.

  Then Tarful spoke. And at the same time he spoke, I heard my own words in memory. His were, "They were robbed of their positions, unfittly as, and when I was, in the betrayal against Karatel." Mine were, "I don't believe you killed them," as I felt Cyric there as close as we'd ever been.

  Then I heard thoughts which came before this. Lieutenant Marcus Raand, Lieutenant Let Jaxom, Lord Councilman Palum. These were the names of the men that Cyric had killed. Before I'd taken my knife, and meant to kill him. He's a murderer, I'd repeated to myself. He's a murderer; while Slark's voice laughed in my head, scoffing, "not like his father?"

  "Look at me, Cyric," I heard myself say, forcing him to meet my eyes; when he'd come back from his journey riding his ivoronsu. "Look at me, Cyric," I said again, making him look back again, his gaze all startled now.

  "Raand?" I squeaked out. And then, looking between them, from Portos, to Tox, then back to Portos. "Lieutenant Jaxom?" I kept switching between, them and then the figurine, then Tarful, whose brow was low, but resolute.

  I was putting my knife to his throat then, then hearing him tell me that he wouldn't change, then feeling his hands on my shoulders as he spun me around. I was riding beside him on Tobias's horse, wearing a dress, wide-eyed as he and his horse both started laughing. I was walking up to him, surrounded by green Echrian hills, and he was smiling at me, and he was taking away my crown. He was doing the same thing, but this time we were standing in forest of trees as wide as wagons, and I was all undressed into a slip, and we'd been running, and there was smoke everywhere, and voices shouting, but he was kissing me, and then he put both hands against my face, and kissed me again. Like there was nothing else, ever.

  I blinked. My eyes weren't wet, but I could see better that way. As for the three men, they still hadn't responded. But I didn't know how long I'd been lost to my thoughts. Tox and Portos'a expressions were confusion. But Tarful's strict as he nodded to me.

  My breath gave out.

  "What, but how?" I asked. "I don't understand. Everyone in Akadia—"

  "It's a long tale," Tarful said, "One that these here, have only just been told."

  "It was to be kept a secret," Tox—or Raand, or Jaxom, whichever he was—interjected. "Only once our commander returned with the news."

  My breath escaped me again, realizing that he must have meant the news of Cyric's death.

  "Even then," Tox went on. His fingers gripped over the figurine. "I did not say..."

  Portos was watching him carefully, then grimly. Tarful put his hand on Tox's arm, then nodded that commanding way.

  Tox looked back at me. "I will tell you now, if you should like?"

  The Genbuans were still all about, watching intently. But if he meant that he would tell how Cyric didn't kill him, as I thought, then I didn't mind if anyone at all should hear it.

  I nodded quickly, feeling a tightening in my throat. Then Tox spoke on.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  CYRIC:

  I'd grown so anxious with pent up energy that I thought it might be enough to knockdown the building—if it could be released, in any way. But it couldn't. I was just staying still, against the wall, with one foot up against it and my arms crossed—the same wall of the chamber Ellia was in, so I would be closest to her.

  Mostly I was alone in this silver outer room with blue fires, but periodically the servant woman would come in, avoid eye contact with me while she worked at nothing, then would disappear. Every once in a while, I was sure I heard Ellia calling for me. But then I would go close to the door, and there'd be nothing. Then I'd come
back. Then at times, all the anxiety would go from me; instead I'd be thinking of touching Ellia's face in the star chamber. I'd always thought so much of sight, even without having good sight at all; but then, like that, I'd really not needed it at all.

  There was something about my scars that made her skin wherever I touched her, softer somehow, which was an exceptional feat. And then her face, I knew the form of it, without having to see it lit; and there in the dark, I could feel it to tell it; all this had me thinking over whether I would become blind to be rid of the scars, but then this had me thinking that of course I wouldn't—because the scars didn't impair me. Actually, they were great. Silos had said how lucky I'd been, like magic, to survive, let alone without losing a limb or otherwise.